


Founding Fathers Blues

by NoirRosaleen



Series: Numbers Meme! [5]
Category: Bones (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Gen, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Request Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirRosaleen/pseuds/NoirRosaleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Angela chat in the Founding Fathers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Founding Fathers Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/gifts).



> Igrockspock prompted me with "#2 and #11 have a drink together."

“Mind if I join you?”

Sherlock turned a little to see the lovely, exotic woman who had just recreated the crime scene for them yesterday. “Angela Montenegro...from the Jeffersonian? We met yesterday,” she added, waving a little. Sherlock flicked his eyes over her, then held a hand out toward the seat next to him. Since her marriage was quite happy, it seemed unlikely she was attempting to chat him up.

“That was really incredible, what you did,” she said, sliding into the seat and signaling the bartender. “I'll have...the Gnarly Vines cab sab.”

“You sound like John,” he replied, taking a sip of his vodka tonic.

“Is that your boyfriend?” she asked. “He's really cute, you're a lucky man.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Colleague,” he corrected, then, “Friend.”

“Mmmm-hmm,” Angela said, raising her eyebrows skeptically. Her wine arrived, and she took an appreciative sip.

“Why is everyone obsessed with hooking us up?” Sherlock half-demanded.

“It's the way you look at each other, honey. People aren't used to men having relationships like that that aren't sexual,” she offered. “It's the way our culture works.”

“Ugh,” Sherlock muttered, raising his glass again.

“I'm guessing you don't do the relationship thing that often?” Angela asked. She leaned toward him a little, propping her elbow on the bar and resting her head on one hand.

“I find no point in it. Relationships are messy, complicated, and end poorly entirely too often,” Sherlock pronounced with finality.

Angela looked sympathetic. “So John's the closest you have. Well, people are going to make assumptions then.”

“They do little else,” he said, glowering at his drink.

“It's the nature of the beast, sweetie. People used to ask me about Brennan, too. I'm glad she and Seeley finally got their differences worked out – I mean, I like her, and she can be a knockout, but Brennan is way too intense for me,” Angela laughed.

“You prefer your women to be more artistic,” Sherlock said. “Also more sentimental.”

Angela looked taken aback for a minute, then chuckled. “Well, that's not the way I'd put it, but yes,” she agreed. “And now I'm with Hodgins, which means I'm not looking for anybody else.”

“Not that that would stop others,” Sherlock drawled.

“The ring does help, but you're right,” Angela sighed, drinking a bit more wine. “But anyway, I doubt you're really interested in my love life. When do you guys leave?”

“Tomorrow evening. John wants to go sight-seeing as long as we happen to be here and there aren't any pressing cases back home.” Sherlock smiled a little, remembering the polite strop John had had when Sherlock had tried to change their tickets to an earlier flight.

“Nice of you to indulge him, I doubt playing tourist is really your thing,” Angela said.

“Well, the Jeffersonian has some fascinating exhibits, it would be a pity to neglect seeing them before we leave,” Sherlock said a little dismissively.

“Indeed it would,” she agreed, hiding a smile in her wineglass. “Well, here's to a mystery unlocked.”

“And probably another overly-dramatised blog with a silly name,” Sherlock said, clinking his glass with Angela's.

“He could always name it after the rhyme,” Angela suggested.

“What, the Musgrave Ritual? While accurate, it still smacks of the occult,” Sherlock sniffed. “Although it would be slightly less silly than the Speckled Blonde.”

“I think maybe you should leave the naming to me,” a pleasant tenor said near the door. They both started up, and John grinned at them both. “Angela, a pleasure. Is he behaving himself?”

“No complaints here,” she replied. “You guys should probably crash soon if you're going to spend tomorrow in the museums, though.”

“Not tired,” Sherlock announced, and flagged down the bartender. “Vodka tonic, a pint of lager, and another glass for the lady.”

John walked over and sat down on Angela's other side. “Why not,” he sighed, “the jet lag can't get much worse.”


End file.
